


Body Language

by jonny_vrm (elmo_loves_me)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-11
Updated: 2006-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 23:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elmo_loves_me/pseuds/jonny_vrm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Jared's fingers digging into the leather arm of the couch were what did Jensen in, in the end.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Body Language

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the sexy season one promo [HERE](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R6cK8_FYs-A).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen's POV

Watching Jared squirm on that couch, a couch made of what looked like the same leather as Dean's coat, was some sort of supreme torture. There was nothing else Jensen could call it, especially while trying to fight off the growing attraction he had to his friend. Still, there was a difference between knowing it was wrong, and then having it thrust in your face and actually having to _deal_ with it. Jared was depressingly vanilla, with his cute girlfriend and down home Texas accent, and he'd probably never fucked another guy in his life, much less thought about it.

Under Jensen's gaze, Jared's chest heaved, and instead of thinking, _That's some damn fine acting on that boy, I'm impressed at his level of disconnection from the scene!_ or some other educated, I'm-older-and-know-better crap, Jensen thought, _I wonder if he'd do the same thing if I were licking his neck._

Jensen blinked rapidly, trying to clear his head after that last take, only to see Jared slouching back for yet another, letting his legs fall easily apart, stretching the denim across a seemingly unaffected groin. Jensen could not say the same, and after a few test runs of the scene, he'd taken to covering himself with Dean's jacket and standing in the shadows. Slouched against a wall, his legs were canted forward and crossed at the ankles, carefully arranged to cover the completely inappropriate boner he'd been nursing for what seemed like the last three hours.

Jared's fingers digging into the leather arm of the couch were what did Jensen in, in the end. The soft, choked off breaths, the helpless stretch of Jared's smooth neck, even the tiny, desperate thrusts of his hips he could handle, forcing himself to view them emotionlessly, as simply part of the act. But Jared's fingers dimpling the soft skin of the couch, his knuckles turning white as he tried to drag himself back from the edge... that was what Jensen couldn't turn away from. In the tension of Jared's stretched fingers was truth, and Jensen wanted to feel them digging into his back, his thighs, his ass, anywhere and everywhere at once.

"Cut! Cut, please! Jared, great job, you're really nailing it."

_If only he would_, Jensen mused bitterly, reaching down surreptitiously with his hand to adjust himself for what seemed like the umpteenth time. Once again, he thanked God that they'd done his scenes for the promo before Jared's, because there was no way he could act when all the blood in his body was anchored firmly in his dick.

Jared sat up on the couch, smiling at the woman who played Constance, his mouth moving around the whiteness of his teeth as he said something to her that made her laugh. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, touching the lapel of Jared's shirt lightly, almost stroking it, and Jensen wished he were close enough to rub the canvas collar of the jacket himself, maybe brushing the edge of his fingers against Jared's cheek as he went.

"Alright, Jared, one more take, and I think we've got it. Let's go guys! Camera B, I want you over there, to the left. The light should highlight his face more… let's try that angle."

Jensen's brain started to seriously atrophy from lack of blood, his eyes gleaming mutely from the shadows behind and to the right of the director's camera, as he watched Jared arrange himself on the couch. There was no possible way any man could look that good, and as Jared's throaty moans started again, Jensen knew he couldn't stay in the room any longer without completely embarrassing himself. It would've been the first time he'd come in his pants since about seventh grade, but he wasn't about to risk it in front of all these people.

Turning on his heel, he quickly left, making a beeline for his trailer and the welcome privacy of the small bathroom that awaited him there. There was lotion on the shelf above the toilet, and as the whisper quiet drag of Jared's fingers on leather chased Jensen down the hall, Jensen figured he might be locked in his bathroom quite a while. Sure, getting off would only take a few seconds, especially with so much visual stimulation still fresh in his mind, but it takes time to beat yourself up properly about lusting after your younger, clueless coworker… and Jensen had a feeling he would have to put in extra hours on that particular job.


	2. Everything’s Bigger in Texas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He hasn't exactly made it a habit to fall for his male co-workers, though apparently he should have. It would have made this a lot easier._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jared's POV

When Jared first meets Jensen, it's the morning after a hard night of partying and not caring about tomorrow. Jared's more than a little tousled, eyes swollen, shirt undone, his tongue feeling almost too big for his mouth.

Jensen is virtually pristine in comparison, collar stiff and straight and a hint of challenge sparking from his gaze. His face is shiny and freshly scrubbed, a nick under his jaw the only sign of the careful shave he'd given himself this morning.

"Jensen Ackles. Howdy," Jensen says, sticking out a hand that looks like it could pat babies on the head and wrangle a bull all in one day, maybe even at the same time. It's capable and strong, same as the man behind it, and Jared feels a twisting in his gut that isn't supposed to happen.

"Jared Padalecki, fellow Texan. How's it hangin'?"

"A little to the left, my man. Yourself?" Said with a wink and a smirk that just about knocks the wind out of Jared and leaves him sweating.

Jared's surprised; he wasn't really expecting an answer, anyway. Still, there's no way he can pass this up.

"Well, you know what they say."

"What's that?" Jensen asks, already starting to smile. Jared has a flash of those white, white teeth scraping the back of his neck.

"Everything's bigger in Texas."

***

One time, when they're off of filming for the day, Jared decides to have an X-box X-treme Marathon featuring himself, some Donkey Kong (A classic!), some Grand Theft Auto, and some serious quality time with a bag of chips and a six-pack.

Unfortunately, as soon as he sits down, the couch welcoming his body like an eager lover, someone starts pounding on the door.

"Who the fuck is it?" Jared yells; a cold can nestled between his thighs and a thumb hovering over the start button.

"It's Laura Bush, lookin' to get laid!" Comes back to him from outside, and Jared grins. Sure enough, the door swings back to reveal a smug Jensen with a package of hamburgers clutched in one fist.

"Hey, sweet cheeks, thought you'd never come," Jensen drawls, propping an elbow on the doorframe above his head and leaning towards Jared. Jared rolls his eyes and waits for the inevitable. "Still, I knew if I gave it to you hard enough, you would… screaming my name."

Jensen's dirty leer says it all and nothing at the same time. Jared wonders if he's serious, if he'll ever get serious.

"Come on man," Jensen cajoles, "Is that DK I hear? Don't leave me out in the cold!"

"It's 90°."

"I know."

Jared shakes his head, "Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Don't let the door hit you on the way in," Jared grins, turning back towards video games and beer and an afternoon spent whooping some ass with bananas and barrels.

***

Jared thinks he should be long past wet dreams, but when he wakes up at two in the morning lying belly-down in a wet spot… well, he figures he might have to reconsider.

He remembers coming with Jensen's name on his lips, dream hands finger-fucking him while a wet mouth worked his cock. He can't remember ever seeing Jensen's eyes, and this makes him somehow bereft, almost wishing the dream continued to the whispers and satisfied kisses that come after sex.

***

During the filming of _Bugs_ is the first time Jared notices that Jensen might be aware of what's happening between them.

It's not exactly the hearty slaps on the ass he receives through twenty consecutive takes, no. (Well, maybe a little.) It's the way Jensen's voice wraps around the word, "Honey," like it's a piece of chocolate melting on his tongue.

After the fifth time, Jared is trying desperately to tune in to something, _anything_, else.

After the tenth, reciting soccer stats and picturing his mother, his grandmother, hell, his _great_-grandmother naked, stops working,

After the fifteenth time, he is wondering why the hell Jensen doesn't do voice-overs. Porn voice-overs. Though Jared's not sure exactly why porn would need a narrator, or, as his mind insists is the case, a nature documentary format ("Observe, as the male enters the female from behind…"), if it did, Jensen is definitely the man for the job.

By the twentieth time, Jared is ready to climb on top of Jensen and fuck him into next week behind the nearest handy set piece, all the while sucking on that pretty mouth.

Jared's even more surprised that Jensen seems to be feeling it too, and he swears Dean's eyes become less brotherly and more, "Suck me," with each passing second.

Yeah, Jared's pretty much convinced himself that he's in for a night filled with the pressure of Jensen's body against his own, with Jensen moaning his name like it's tearing him up on the inside, when Jared's girlfriend walks in.

_Whoops_, he thinks.

Jensen's face is cold enough to crack concrete at ten paces, and Jared doesn't know what to do.

He hasn't exactly made it a habit to fall for his male co-workers, though apparently he should have.

It would have made this a lot easier.

***

It doesn't take long for Jared to realize that besides wanting Jensen, he wants to just _be with him_. He really likes the guy, and if he stops to analyze this, he's faced with the fact that Jensen's become just about his best friend ever. Before Jared lets this freak him out, he makes himself figure out why as best he can:

The time Jared had a cold; Jensen brought him chicken soup, Tylenol, and a good book. When Jared felt too crappy to really _do_ anything, Jensen warmed up the soup (it was canned, so no _big_ deal), but then he sat with Jared and read the book to him while Jared slurped up the noodles and chewed through pieces of rubbery chicken. When Jared's sniffles finally seemed to lose their death grip on him, he fell asleep to the soothing sound of Jensen's voice and Sherlock Holmes hot on the heels of the latest villain.

When Jared woke up, there was a bookmark in the book, the covers were pulled up to his chin, and his kitchen was clean, even though he hadn't washed dishes for about a week.

The time the two of the went back-roads dirt biking, and Jared's bike tipped in a stream, throwing him and his pack into the icy water and soaking them through. Jensen had laughed himself silly, almost to the point of crying, and only guffawed harder when Jared threw a hissy fit. Jared remembered being ready to kill him, until Jensen reached into his own bag, pulled out his favorite T-shirt and a pair of sweat-pants, and said, "Let's make camp, dude. Wouldn't want princess to exert himself too much today."

It was only 11:00 AM; their schedule was ruined.

Jared can still feel the cuffs of the too-short pants pressing into his calves, and the warmth of the sun through the well worn, blue, T-shirt fabric.

The time that they'd gone to a WB after-party, only to find it was full of people they didn't know or people they knew too well. The look Jensen tossed Jared's way was priceless, and when he muttered, "I need some hot, lady action, bro," out of the side of his mouth and proceeded to try and pick up someone's 80 year old grandmother, Jared had almost pissed himself trying not to laugh.

The time filming had been delayed three hours by a lighting glitch, and Jensen decided it would be a good idea to stay in his character for the duration, Dean's leather jacket a thing of beauty on his broad shoulders, black motorcycle boots announcing his arrival and departure.

Jared smiled every time "Dean" called him, "Sammy," and when Dean invited him to the "gun show," Jared had to laugh at Jensen's absolute ineptitude when it came to pick-up lines that weren't in the script. So did all the other "ladies" Dean hit on, including Cindy in makeup, Don over in special effects, Terri from costuming, and Kripke himself.

Basically, Dean put the moves on everything and anything that moved, and ended up bragging about his escapades to "Sammy," grinning when Jared called him Jensen, and asking, "Who is this Jensen guy, anyway. You got another lost brother I don't know about, Sammy?"

"No," Jared said, "But I found someone who sure is a pain in the ass, and we aren't even related."

"Someone worse than me? You know, they have rock salt for that," was Dean's reply, and the curve of his smile was suddenly more cutting than any blade, going directly for Jared's ribs, and carving a little path upwards to his heart.

Fuck, Jared really, _really_ likes the guy.


	3. This One’s for You, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jared's girlfriend rushes forward as soon as the red, we're-filming-back-the-fuck-off light fades to darkness, all froth and teeth and bounce, flipping long, dark hair and inhabiting a body that's all wrong, too small in the shoulder, too delicate in the jaw. She's not Jensen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jared's POV. Also, this was back before I was really aware of Sandy and Jared is, um, kind of a total dick to her. So, sorry about that, Sandy fans. :/

Jared's a little nervous when he comes in the day they're filming the UK promo, not exactly sure how to "get in the zone" required for this one, mostly because he was too embarrassed to bring his dirty magazines to the set. He really doesn't want to be remembered as, "That creepy guy with the porn," though come to think of it, Jensen probably has something X-rated in his trailer.

Jared's mind obligingly provides a picture of himself in Jensen's trailer, tied to a chair and completely debauched, mouth and cock swollen with blood while he waits for Jensen to finish with his scenes.

It's suddenly blazing hot in the hallway, and Jared immediately fills his mind with pictures of his girlfriend. She'll be here today; he won't have any problems.

However, after the ninth time watching Jensen prowl around Bloody Mary, the sex practically oozing off of his body as he fucks her with his eyes, Jared doesn't _think_ he'll have any problems, he _knows_ he'll have problems… keeping his hands off of Jensen.

Settling onto the couch for his own part of the promo, Jared carefully avoids Jensen's eyes, shuts out Jensen's voice, and manages to latch his gaze onto that of his girlfriend's. _This one's for you, baby_, he thinks, but when Jensen next drifts into his line of vision, it's to toss him a wink and a lip lick that has Jared already squirming.

Who is he kidding, anyway?

During the first run through, a practice, just to get the sound levels and the shading right, Jared doesn't really try all that hard. The-woman-known-as-Constance hovers over him, running her hands obligingly up and down his chest, laughing when Sam moans and breathing hotly in his ear as he arches upward, chuckling to himself at the absolute absurdity of this. He knows he probably looks ridiculous, like a fish out of water, flopping around on this stupid couch.

That is, until he notices Jensen's reaction.

Jensen looks like he's been broadsided by a bus, his eyes riveted on Jared and his lips parted, shining wetly. _He must have just licked them_, Jared thinks blurrily, feeling his entire body sizzle to life, his thighs suddenly burning with something like anticipation of a hard body between them.

The next time, the first real take, Jared lets his head fall back like it's the real deal. He lets his fingers clutch the couch arm like it's the only thing keeping him from coming in his pants, his hips hitching helplessly, and the fingers running over his neck, his jaw, feel like Jensen's. The soft sound he lets out, somewhere between a whimper and a gasp and maybe a little bit of Jensen's name, is too quiet to be captured by the microphones, but Constance looks down at him strangely.

"What did you say?" She says, eyebrows quirked as Kripke compliments him on his acting, his emotion, and moves around to consult with a few of the grips. Jensen is a dark, heavy shadow in the corner of Jared's vision.

"I said, 'oh baby, oh baby, touch me again'," Jared deadpans in a completely toneless voice as he sits up, and Constance smiles, breaking into laughter. He joins her a second later, conscious of Jensen shifting against the wall, his eyes pushing against the side of Jared's face like a touch.

Each of the takes after that, Jared makes sure his legs fall apart a little more than necessary, and he tries to angle his pelvis more towards Jensen, imagining each touch of lips to his neck is the other man finally giving in, and the skim of a hand down the bulge of his bicep is Jensen finally admitting he can't hold out any longer.

It takes a few more times for Jared to notice Jensen has left the set, without so much as a verbal jab or a rude noise in his general direction, which is highly unusual.

_What? Why did he go?_

Jared's girlfriend rushes forward as soon as the red, we're-filming-back-the-fuck-off light fades to darkness, all froth and teeth and bounce, flipping long, dark hair and inhabiting a body that's all wrong, too small in the shoulder, too delicate in the jaw.

She's not Jensen.

Jared can't remember what he says to her, but it doesn't matter because he's moving through the building, long legs taking him in the direction of Jensen's trailer, and she can't keep up anyway… never could. He wonders if that's a metaphor for something, and knows immediately that Jensen could keep up. Hell, Jensen would probably goose him and then make some crack about "Bottoms up!" and "Wanna get a drink? We could put that motto, and that bottom, to use."

Then, just like that, he's at the door to Jensen's trailer, and an eye-blink later, he's inside. It's really only one big room, the bulging in and out of walls and cabinets and shelves the delineations between where to sleep, eat, drive. The one closed door at the far end holds his eye like a magnet, and he knows that that's where Jensen must be.

The bathroom.

It sounds like some twisted WWE showdown plot, but here he is, about to have a throw down with Jensen in the bathroom of his less than A-list trailer.

His hand is knocking on the flimsy door, again, before he can stop it. It's like his brain is no loner controlling his body, and he feels himself trembling, the minute shivers tickling his shirt across his nipples, ratcheting up his arousal when it really shouldn't be doing anything at all. Maybe it's the smell of Jensen that completely fills the trailer, his cologne mixing with the underlying scent of sweat and leather and beer and man that is purely Jensen and wholly undeniable.

Or maybe it's the unmistakable sounds coming from behind the door, because no one moans like that unless they're _this close_ to coming their brains out.

"What – who is it?" Jensen's voice is rough when he responds to Jared's knock, reminding Jared of silk over splintered wood, and he leans his forehead against the door, saying calmly and clearly, "Who do you think."

"Jared?! Aw, fuck…" There's a frantic rustling of cloth, more muffled cursing, and then the door swings open and there is Jensen. His face is flushed, and his lips are pink and tempting where he's obviously been biting them. Jared's eyes automatically drop to his crotch, and it's a little hard to miss how excited Jensen is.

"Bro, I – what are you doing here? Are you in trouble? Kripke want somethin'? 'Cause I'm kinda bu –"

A hand on Jensen's chest is enough to stop him talking, and once Jared has him backed up against the bathroom sink, he pulls the door shut without looking, and fists his hands in Jensen's shirt, jerking him up and slamming their mouths together.

Jensen makes a surprised sound, his hands flying upwards and sinking into Jared's hair, fingers tightening as if to pull him away, but when Jared licks a line over the seam of Jensen's lips, Jensen's hands suddenly reverse and clutch him closer as Jensen's lips fall open and his tongue reaches for Jared's.

Jensen kisses as if it's the last one he'll ever have, hot and needy, the wet slurping sounds going straight to Jared's cock as he drinks Jared in like a man in the desert who hasn't seen water for days. The curve of Jensen's skull tipped back under Jared's own is Michelangelo's David, a masterpiece of artistry and design built to be worshipped.

Jensen's hand is fumbling between them, and Jared doesn't remember his jeans falling down around his knees like that, but now that they're there he's not about to do anything. His mouth is freed with a soft popping noise as Jensen slides to his knees in front of Jared, a little squished in the space between Jared's bony knees and the sink cabinet.

Jared leans his hands on the cold porcelain, and stares at himself in the mirror, watches his pupils bleed outward, black eating color until he looks like some kind of horny alien; watching his lips fall open when Jensen fists his cock and licks a line over the head, tongue teasing the slit, before swallowing Jared down like he's been waiting for weeks, _months_, to get his mouth on Jared's dick.

"Ah, fuck, _Jensen_, Jen where'd you learn to suck like that, you slut." Jared groans, letting his head droop between his braced arms, feeling a little hypnotized as he watches the bobbing motions of Jensen's spiky-blonde head. His entire body feels like it's on fire, and in a moment of ridiculous clarity, he realizes he's still wearing Sam's canvas jacket, and Dean's leather coat is thrown over the closed seat of the toilet.

Jensen's eyes are squeezed shut, but a moan rips out of him when Jared's fingers cup the bend of bone behind his ear, and Jared can see that Jen's taken his own cock out and is working himself frantically. _He's getting off on blowing me_, Jared thinks, and tightens the muscles in his arm, drawing Jensen down his length until he almost gags and Jared gasps out, "God, you fucking love this, you love my dick in your mouth, you love _choking_ on it! How long? How long could we have had this?"

Jensen shudders at the words, lunging forward one last time until Jared feels himself bumping the back of Jensen's throat, before Jensen is coming, shaking under Jared's hand like he's breaking apart, his lips loosening around Jared's cock as he tries to pant out his orgasm.

When he stands up, he almost knocks Jared's nose back into his head, and when he curls he fingers back around Jared's erection, Jared can't help but sob out Jensen's name, pushing him back against the sink and rubbing himself frantically against the roughness of Jensen's jeans.

Jensen licks a line up his neck to his ear, whispers, "Come for me, Jared. Ah, _christ_, you're so fucking hot, wanted you forever," before Jensen bites Jared's shoulder and Jared almost blacks out his orgasm is so intense.

Everything afterwards is a blur of clothing coming off, a languid trip to the bed, stopping to kiss against walls, against tables, against chairs, before finally tumbling onto the coarse sheets (No 500-count silk for a Texas man) and pulling a blanket up around them.

Jared has enough energy left to sling an arm around Jensen, pulling him close and pressing their noses together, muttering, "Be here when I wake up. Please," before he plunges into sleep, Jensen's whispered reply of, "I'll always be here, you idiot; this is _my_ trailer," the last thing he hears.

***

When Jared regains consciousness, Jensen's not there, and he sits up in a blind panic, already halfway out of bed before Jensen saunters naked into view, coming from the direction of the trailer's kitchen.

"Woah, slow down there, cow poke. What's your beef?" Jensen drawls, his body the picture of languid satisfaction as he flops on the pillows next to Jared, the pull of muscles across his abdomen and torso something Jared thinks he would pay to watch all day, like satellite TV. Jensen's got two cans of beer clutched in his hands, and he offers one to Jared.

Jared swings his feet back up on the bed, taking the can and popping it open.

"I thought you left," he shrugs, the soft hiss of carbonation punctuating his words. He's careful not to meet Jensen's eyes, knowing he can't possibly approve of the fucking _girl_ Jared's become. Real men don't worry about morning-afters and regrets.

"That's all," he finishes, and before Jared takes his next breath he's got a lap full of Texan and an ear full of twang that is absolutely _melting_ his insides.

"That what you thought, darlin'? That I'd up and leave you after I've been wanting to knock boots with you since day one? That I'd let you go like some kind of glory trip, been there, done that? Jare, baby, I haven't even _started_ on what I want to do to you, much less finished, so don't you worry your pretty little head about me _leavin'_, got me?"

Jared is having a hard time finding words, a _very_ hard time, and Jensen shifts on his lap, rubbing himself temptingly against Jared's rock-hard cock before smirking and lifting his beer onto the bedside table. "Put that down, honey, before you spill it someplace you'll regret later. That stuff sticks like the devil."

Jared's lucky he finds the bedside table at all with his own can. When he grabs Jensen and flips them both so he's on top, hand sliding down a thigh and behind a knee, bending Jensen's legs around his hips as he starts up a rhythm they both can dance to, he thinks he hears something that sounds a lot like, "mine" and "always" and maybe even "love" leave Jensen's mouth.

Bending down to bite Jensen's earlobe, Jared replies with something that sounds a lot like, "yours" and "forever" and "ditto", before losing himself in the twisting body beneath him, the slide of sheet against flesh and Jensen laughing hotly into his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> (Read the story on LJ [HERE](http://jonny-vrm.livejournal.com/1120.html).)


End file.
